


Thirty Days of Decadence

by Secondhandplants (sublime42)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Belly Kink, Disordered Eating, Drug Use, Immobility, M/M, Marijuana, Stomach aches, Stuffing, Weight Gain, binge eating, kinkfic, obesity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:27:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23689927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sublime42/pseuds/Secondhandplants
Summary: Jaskier comes into some money and decides that he wants to spend a month doing nothing but eating, drinking and screwing Geralt.Please read the tags.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88





	Thirty Days of Decadence

Day 1

“I’m still not sure about this,” Geralt said, as he brought the tray over to Jaskier. “It seems like a bad idea.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. He sat in bed, in his most comfortable undergarments and had been eagerly awaiting breakfast when Geralt spoke.

“I’ll be _fine_! I’m young and it’s only for thirty days. And this is my fantasy, really! When will we ever get a chance like this again?”

Geralt sighed, but slowly walked over and placed the tray on Jaskier’s lap. It contained enough food for two meals: two bowls of stew, a large loaf of bread, and a large plate of fresh berries. He watched as the younger man tucked into the meal, eating it ravenously. 

He supposed that Jaskier was probably right. They’d never have coin like this again. It was only a stroke of luck that one of Jaskier’s wealthy relatives had died (one that Jaskier had never met) and left a small fortune to them. Enough to keep them comfortably afloat for at least three months. 

Jaskier had mentioned his fantasy before - an entire month of total decadence - all the food, drink and sex he wanted - but it had never seemed like a possibility before now.

Still, Geralt didn’t want to say no to his bard. He’d found them a comfortable cabin to rent, somewhat secluded but also close enough to town should he need supplies. He’d stocked up on as much food and ale as possible as well.

His last act had been to take Jaskier’s measurements. Jaskier had been insistent on this. His waist, chest, thighs, and neck had all been carefully measured with a tailor’s string and the results recorded. As it was, he measured at a healthy thirty inch waist, thirty six inch chest, twenty inch thighs and sixteen inch neck. His last recorded weight was about eleven and a half stone*, and Jaskier felt as if he’d maintained that, so that was written down as well.

With the way Jaskier was eating, Geralt could only imagine how much those measurements might change in a month’s time. Already, he was onto his second bowl of stew and most of the bread was gone. He watched as Jaskier interspersed it with drinks of ale, finishing the mug quickly and holding it out to Geralt to refill it.

When he finally finished, he sat back, hands resting on his belly, which now stuck out slightly. 

“That was good. Think I’m going to read a bit,” he announced, “But I’ll probably snack a little too.”

Day 5

The thing that Geralt noticed most, so far, was that Jaskier didn’t seem to enjoy food as much.

He had eaten the first meal of this whole endeavor quickly, but for the ones after that, at least for the first four days, he had taken his time, savoring the flavors and textures. He’d finish everything for sure, but he would do it slowly, as if enjoying every mouthful. With so many years of life on the road, it made sense. Geralt couldn’t count how often they’d had to make do with near starvation rations, or eating only handfuls of nuts and grains while walking.

Now, he was getting quality food. Stews, soups, pies, cakes. Anything he could think of. Geralt had even gotten fresh fruits for him, items they would rarely have had previously.

Recently he had been eating for the sake of eating, it seemed. Not that Jaskier ever complained. In fact as time went by he became more demanding, asking for larger amounts during meals and for snacks and requesting belly rubs in the evenings. 

Physically, his stomach seemed slightly bigger when empty, but not by a large amount. When full it stuck out like a small ball. Geralt enjoyed that look the most: Jaskier, totally sated and overfull, lying in bed and begging for relief from his over indulgences. His stomach was always hard and warm when Geralt touched it, proof of how much he’d consumed. 

Geralt always took care of him. He helped Jaskier dress in the mornings and filled the bath for him in the evenings. He went so far as to bathe the man, gently running a rag along his growing body, making the younger man relax even further. The goal was for Jaskier to expend as little energy as possible, and Geralt was certainly helping with that.

Day 10

The sides of Jaskier’s stomach had started showing stretch marks. Light ones, nothing major, but definitely noticeable. Upon close inspection, they lined his hips and thighs as well.

Geralt noticed that he definitely looked sturdier than he had previously. His stomach had definitely developed some small rolls, and his face was slightly rounder. 

Overall, he still looked fairly fit, but with some extra padding, and he seemed to revel in his changing shape, touching himself all over, feeling each and every new inch. He was aroused almost constantly, which in turn aroused Geralt. All of it did, really. The larger Jaskier got, the more attractive Geralt found him. It had been a pleasant surprise.

Their daily lovemaking had suffered some consequences of Jaskier’s new lifestyle though. He was lazier, now, wanting Geralt to do the vast majority of the work, preferring to lie there and have Geralt pleasure him. 

This extended to other things, like bathing. While he could still walk around, Jaskier had mentioned that standing for more than half an hour had begun to make him tired, so perhaps it should be avoided as much as possible. Geralt began carrying him to the bath after that, making sure that Jaskier didn’t use any of his energy unncessarily. 

On the down side, Jaskier seemed to be in legitimate pain more often than not. His meals were now getting to be close to three times the usual amount he would have eaten, and with constant snacking in between, he was almost always full to the brim. By midday, he would be complaining about how sick and nauseous he felt. Geralt had found a tea that helped with the nausea, and had been making it for him daily, but beyond that, all he could do was rub Jaskier’s stomach for him.

When asked if he wanted to stop, Jaskier always said no. As much pain as he was in, the entire process turned him on too much.

Day 15

Jaskier didn’t think he had ever been in as much pain as he currently was. And that was saying something, considering how many times he’d been injured while on the road with Geralt.

His stomach truly felt like it might burst. He’d managed eight meals that day, large ones, too, occurring every 3 hours, with breaks to sleep in between. 

By the fifth one, he had felt overly full. By the seventh, it was getting hard to breathe. How he’d managed the final one was almost beyond him, though he figured that he had Geralt’s hands, and the herbs that he had managed to procure to thank for it. When smoked in a pipe they calmed his stomach and even increased his appetite, so he had been using them several times per day.

Now, though. Now it hurt too much to even turn his head. He lay in bed, groaning, waiting for Geralt to assist him. The bed was covered in crumbs and his bedclothes were filthy, not that it really mattered. They barely fit anymore, being too tight on his waist, chest and legs. He kept them open most of the time but had a feeling that the next day he might have to send out Geralt for some new items.

“Alright, I’m here,” Geralt told him, brushing him off and moving around empty plates before sitting on the edge of the bed. “I need to move you.”

Jaskier sighed, regretting it a second later as his lungs struggled to expand.

“If you must, but be careful.”

“You know I always am.”

Geralt gently lifted Jaskier, one hand keeping his belly stable, so he could slide in behind him. Once there, he allowed Jaskier to relax against him. He placed a hand on Jaskier’s stomach, which truly rounded out like a globe now. His skin was red, clearly straining with the amount stuffed into him, and he moaned as Geralt touched him.

Geralt touched him as he typically did during these times; big, slow circles, fingers caressing his underbelly and making Jaskier squirm slightly. Usually Jaskier was hard within a few minutes of such actions and despite the pain he was in, this was no exception. Geralt was just about to use his free hand to pleasure Jaskier when the hiccups started.

Jaskier’s hiccups were always adorable. Geralt loved when it happened, but now, it was just painful for the bard. He shook with each one, tears forming in his eyes. 

“Here,” Geralt reached to the floor, picking up a glass of water. He held it to Jaskier’s lips. “Drink this down.”

Jaskier blanched at the thought of putting anything else into his overfull stomach. Then another hiccup hit.

Frowning, he took a small sip, then quickly began to gulp it down.

“Hey, easy,” Geralt warned him. Jaskier looked as if he were forcing the liquid down. It couldn’t be comfortable. 

Jaskier didn’t heed his warning. He finished the drink in record time, burping loudly when he was done. He could feel it sloshing around on top of everything else in his stomach, but found that at least his hiccups had stopped.

Still, he was in severe pain.

“Ohhh, Geralt,” he groaned. “Help me!”

Geralt smirked and began his ministrations once again.

Day 20

Jaskier found that he could no longer get out of bed with any ease. Doing so literally made him slightly out of breath.

Geralt found this very concerning.

“I think we need to stop this,” he said, as he watched Jaskier struggle. “This isn’t normal.”

“Ah,” Jaskier answered, leaning on the headboard, “I’m fine. Just a little out of shape.”

Well, that was one way to put it. Jaskier was definitely larger now. His stomach stuck out permanently, rounding out whether he sat or stood, and the stretch lines on it had become red as he grew faster than his skin could handle. He had a permanent double chin now, and his chest had begun to soften. While he looked stunning, Geralt worried about the impact on Jaskier’s health. The fun of this endeavor didn’t seem worth Jaskier becoming sick or dying.  
“I think perhaps we ought to take a walk outside,” Geralt replied. “Nothing long. Just for a little bit.”

“Ugh,” Jaskier sighed, as if the task were the hardest thing in the world.

“Come on. We’ll take twenty minutes and we won’t go up any hills,” Geralt promised.

“...Fine,” Jaskier agreed. “But I need help getting dressed.”

Geralt nodded and went to the trunk that stored their clothing. The day prior, he’d purchased Jaskier some comfortable, light fitted clothing that was several sizes larger than those he originally owned. Tracking down such items had been a feat in itself, as not too many people were of the same size that Jaskier was aiming for, but he’d managed to return with two outfits.

He held the pants out for Jaskier to step into, allowing the bard to lean on him as he balanced himself. Once his feet were in place, he hefted the pants up over Jaskier’s legs, finally tying them at his waist. Getting anything with a button seemed like a poor idea, at least with ties, the waist size could be adjusted.

He tied the strings in a neat bow before choosing a black shirt, which he placed over Jaskier’s head and arms, pulling it over his stomach.

Jaskier followed him out the door moving slightly more slowly than usual, something which most people probably wouldn’t have noticed but Geralt did. His gait had become very slightly wider as well, the result of his thighs and hips expanding.

The weather was warm and it was nighttime, so there was no fear of anyone seeing them. Geralt led Jaskier down a path and towards the banks of the river nearby. It would provide a cool breeze as they moved.

The two walked quietly, save for a few grunts and groans from Jaskier, for fifteen minutes before Geralt stopped them. 

“Are you alright?” He asked. 

Jaskier was breathing heavily and starting to sweat. 

“Actually,” he took another breath, “I’m kinda tired. Think we can maybe stop for a bit?”

In the years that he’d known Jaskier, they’d walked for literal days together. The fact that fifteen minutes was slowing him down worried Geralt more.

“Alright,” Geralt agreed. 

They took a seat on the river bank, watching the water flow by. It was a gorgeous evening, and Geralt savored the sounds of it. Jaskier, however, still looked unwell.

“I can carry you back,” Geralt offered.

He didn’t really expect Jaskier to take him up on the offer, but held back showing surprise when he did. Saying nothing, he hefted the bard into his arms, noting that he was definitely heavier than the last time he’d carried him. 

Quietly Geralt carried him back to the cabin, finding that Jaskier had fallen asleep by the time they arrived.

Day 22

Geralt held the vial of potion to Jaskier’s lips.

“Take it, or I won’t continue to do this with you.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“What is it, anyway? How do you know it won’t kill me?”

“It’s from Yen. I was able to contact her, she portaled it over. It won’t kill you. It’ll make it so you don’t die from this little experiment.”

“Come on, Geralt.” Jaskier glared at him.

“Says the man who literally needs to be helped to the chamber pot. Who requires sponge baths because even just sitting in the tub is too hard,” Geralt reminded him.

Jaskier sniffed it.

“It smells horrible.”

“If you don’t do it for yourself, do it for me,” Geralt said. “Please.”

It wasn’t like Geralt to ask nicely for anything, and the look on his face told Jaskier that clearly, this meant a lot to him.

“....Fine,” he agreed. He pinched his nose and swallowed the potion down, making a face of disgust when it was gone.

“Sweets, now,” he said, making grabby hands towards the pile of cakes and pies that Geralt had amassed for the day.

Geralt obliged him, handing over a small hand sized fruit pie, which Jaskier quickly devoured.

Day 25

Geralt rolled up his sleeves, readying himself for his favorite chore of the day: bathing Jaskier.

In the past week Jaskier had complained that even just sitting up in the bathtub was too painful, as there were no pillows to support him, so Geralt had been washing him down while in bed. He had to be extremely gentle, as Jaskier’s skin was very painful, being stretched so far. Every motion had to be undertaken slowly, but it gave Geralt a chance to catalog the changes to Jaskier’s body in depth.

His stomach was very round, now, as most of the weight had gone there. Geralt was particularly fond of his arms too, which had softened and thickened. His shoulders and chest were wider and his pectorals were slowly rounding out. His cheeks were chubbier, making him look even younger than he had before. 

“Mmm,” Jaskier sighed as Geralt ran a rag over his side. “It tickles.”

Geralt half smiled and placed a kiss on his hip, making Jaskier chuckle.

While the younger man was still almost perpetually aroused by his debauched state, sex had become somewhat more difficult. Even sitting on his knees for too long hurt, so Geralt really had to maneuver him if they wanted to be intimate. Once they finally found a comfortable position, though, it was phenomenal, with Jaskier’s heightened sensitivity and Geralt finding new areas to grab onto each time.

And, much to Geralt’s relief, the potion had done its work. While Jaskier still felt aches and pains, he seemed to be breathing easier at least. 

Geralt found it hard to believe that it would be over in five days. Part of him wished that this might last even longer.

Day 30

Today was it. The final day of their journey.

To celebrate, Jaskier had asked for a massive feast. His idea was to continuously eat from waking until sleeping. 

Geralt had spent the previous evening gathering food from town and doing some hunting of his own to make sure that the bard had enough. 

They’d started at dawn, Jaskier taking hits off the pipe Geralt provided to rev his appetite up. After an hour he was ready to go, and started shoveling creamy soup and meat pies down as quickly as possible.

It took him an hour to fill up, having eaten enough food for five men. It astounded Geralt how much Jaskier’s capacity to eat had increased.

He slowed for a bit after that, smoking and drinking some ale to numb himself as he digested. Geralt noticed that his eyes became glazed over, and knew it was a sign that he would soon continue.

Next came a huge pot of stew. Geralt could literally see his stomach expand with every few bowls of it. It made groaning sounds as if protesting the amount he was pushing into it, but Jaskier ignored it. He had a goal to reach and he was going to do it!

It was after this that he requested a belly rub, which Geralt was all too happy to oblige him with. He’d become a pro at finding the soft spots of his belly and pressing into him. Each burp would free up some room, making it so that Jaskier could continue his quest just a bit sooner.

“It’s weird, but if I don’t eat every hour, I feel nauseous,” he remarked, at the midday mark. “It’s like my body is used to it now and expects it. Not sure how I’ll go back to normal after this.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed, “Slowly, I imagine.”

Jaskier nodded. 

“At least I’ll be able to play my lute again.”

Holding the instrument to his chest hurt at times, just because he was always so full, so he hadn’t played in days. That was, Jaskier admitted, the only thing that really bothered him. 

The next meal was dessert. Fruit pies, an almond cake and tarts. Geralt had bought out the stock of the nearest baker and had brought everything back in a box, intending for Jaskier to eat all of it.

Jaskier reveled in the sweetness of it all, rubbing the filling on himself and licking it from his fingers, and inviting Geralt to lick it too. Geralt, of course, was happy to participate, his tongue drifting over Jaskier’s sweet, pale, lined skin.

The bard continued to eat as Geralt’s lips danced over his body, stuffing down two entire pies and three tarts before stopping. Geralt looked at him in amazement; he had never seen Jaskier so big before. He was well and truly fat looking now. Not just chubby, not just stocky. Fat.

Jaskier panted, feeling sick, so Geralt came to his aid, giving him the tea for his stomach and rubbing him once again.

“Not sure if I’m gonna be able to finish it” Jaskier noted, his breaths shallow from the food being pressed against his lungs. 

Geralt pressed a little harder into his belly, making him sigh.

“You should take a short nap. I think it’ll help settle things more.”

“Mmm,” Jaskier agreed, his eyes already closing.

00

In the end, Jaskier made his goal, just barely. The look of temporary regret on his face was worth the whole thing, Geralt decided. He looked tired, his mouth hanging open, lips and cheeks covered in the remnants of all he’d ingested. Sauces and sugars covered his abdomen, which looked even more massive than before.

“Well, you did it,” Geralt said. It was nearing midnight, and the month was done.

Jaskier cracked open his eyes.

“I literally can’t move, Geralt.”

Geralt kneeled next to the bed and placed a gentle kiss on his belly.

“Get some sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Day 31

“Thirty nine inches,” Geralt said, removing the measure from Geralt’s waist. “Forty three inch chest, twenty four inch thighs and a seventeen inch neck. That’s… a lot.”

“Better than I imagined,” Jaskier noted, smiling. 

He and Geralt were slowly making their way towards the store, where Jaskier hoped to use the scale. The walk took time, as they had to stop every few moments to rest.

When he finally stepped on, the result surprised them both.

“Thirteen point nine*,” Geralt read off. “You’ve gained thirty five pounds in a month.”

“I knew I could do it,” was Jaskier’s response.

*11.5 stone = approximately 160lbs, /13.9=195 pounds.

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by someone who recently undertook a thirty day stuffing challenge, and has to do with the side effects they experienced.


End file.
